


Beginnings

by tenshi13



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Crush, Fluff, M/M, Music, Secret Crush, Snow, Traffic jam, iwaoi - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 19:42:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5755855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenshi13/pseuds/tenshi13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oikawa is blushing from the cold, it definitely has nothing at all to do with a certain someone. Pfft.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beginnings

Each flake was a silent seductress; beautiful; dangerous. It clung to every horizontal surface, bleeding cold into the bare trees and hard tarmac. A connecting road cut through farmland, a scar carved into the fertile earth. Cars inched between the thin lines of the scar, skating on snow that had frozen to ice during the night, sloshing grey snowmelt to the side of the road where it built up in mounds.

Iwaizumi’s headlights cut through the poor visibility, catching the snow in a sparkling half glow and revealing the bumper of the car in front. Cautiously he glanced in each of his mirrors – how great would it be if he crashed? Forget potential bodily harm, it was the increased insurance costs he couldn’t deal with. But he was safe, the care of the other drivers mimicked his own. He double checked his mirrors, just to be on the safe side, and he noticed something out of place.  
Although it was hard make out, he thought he saw the faint out-line of person in the hazy fog. The figure manoeuvred through the slow moving traffic – without any apparent regard to their life. Gradually, the shadow solidified into the image of a boy, tall, hood drawn around his face, and on a collision course: with the bumper of his car.

Shit.

His first instinct was to break hard, but some more sensible inner voice stopped him. Instead he pressed a tentative foot to the break, gently, feeling the wheels skip, but only a little. The car glided to a stop. Behind him came to tooting of an outraged horn, but really there was nothing he could do about that.  
It was hard to say how tall he was, or even what he looked like. Between the way he hunched into his thick, navy-blue coat – which was buttoned to his chin – and his fur-lined hood draped over his face, only his nose peaked out, red and probably ice cold. A student, Iwaizumi deduced from the bag slung over one shoulder. As the boy passed in front of his car Iwaizumi toyed with the idea of giving him a lift, before rejecting it in favour of bumping up the radio a notch so he could listen out for road closures.  
The snow fell with renewed vigour, landing on the windscreen with audible splats. They didn’t remain for long, the newly strong wind blowing the snow away, the window wipers swiping through anything that remained. The screen newly cleared Iwaizumi squinted at the road. The boy had just past the front of his car when a gust of wind blew the hood from his face, revealing pink-flushed cheeks that Iwaizumi just so happened to recognise.

The idiotic guy who studied the same course as him. Iwaizumi’s conscience tugged at him, so regretfully he rolled down the passenger side window, “Hey! Oikawa!”

His head swivelled, eyes finding Iwaizumi’s. He blinked in surprise.

“Want a ride?”

Oikawa hesitated for a moment, causing Iwaizumi to sigh, “Just get in the car you moron, before my face freezes off.” The window made a mechanical whir as it closed, only for the door to be opened seconds later. In came Oikawa with his coat and the cold before it slammed shut once more. Just looking at him made Iwaizumi shiver, so he leaned forwards to fiddle with the dials on the dash. The heaters began kicking out more hot air and the radio quietened. Oikawa dumped his bag on the backseat and struggled to undo the buttons on his coat with numb fingers. When he finally peeled it off he threw that in the backseat too. The perfectly groomed masterpiece of his hair was now a tangled, windswept mess. Like a dog he shook his head, flinging drops of snowmelt through the air, landing on various surfaces of the interior. “Thanks for the lift~” he sang, holding his hands over the heater.

Iwaizumi pulled off carefully, and gave Oikawa a sideways glance. “Seatbelt.”

“Huh?”

“Your seatbelt. Put it on.”

“Ah, sorry!” And even though he secured it in place with a click, he didn’t sound sorry in the slightest.

“You better be, I don’t want a ticket.” That would be bad. Because that costs money, money that Iwaizumi decidedly didn’t have. The car was the one big luxury he paid for out of his meagre wages and parent’s allowance, but if it became a bigger liability than it already was then he’d be fated to walk to school with Oikawa. Wonderful. He’d probably develop hypothermia or something, else he’d end up with his ear talked off. It was easier for Oikawa just to wear his damn seatbelt. He relayed a slightly less dramatised version of this to Oikawa, who gasped.

“What treachery is this?! You care more about money than my life Iwa-chan?”

“Don’t call me that.” He didn’t even ask where he’d gotten it from, he already knew that with Oikawa one had to pick their battles.

“Call you what?” The feigned innocence looked scarily real in his chocolate eyes, leading Iwaizumi to wonder how often he turned that gaze on unsuspecting teachers.

“Remember who’s doing who a favour here,” he threatened darkly.

An easy laugh tumbled from Oikawa’s mouth and he waved his hand dismissively, “Please, you’re the kind of person who rescues kittens from dumpsters, you’re too soft hearted to just leave me on the side of the road or something.” Stray flicks of hair endearingly obscured one of his eyes.

“You’re not as cute as kittens,” Iwaizumi lied, “So I’m tempted.”

“No, I’m even cuter~” he preened, throwing up a peace sign as if posing for a photograph.

Iwaizumi braked as he caught up with the traffic, which was no longer crawling but completely dead. News of the traffic jam filtered through the radio – too late and interspaced with static. Iwaizumi reached to switch it off then pulled on the handbrake. “We’re gonna be here for a while,” he warned.

Oikawa grinned, “That’s okay, we can eat those sweets on your backseat while we wait.” He eyed them up from where they sat beside his coat.

“No, they’re for my girlfriend.”

“But… you don’t have a girlfriend.” He sounded very assured.

“Why do you even know that? How do you even know that?” Iwaizumi asked despairingly, dragging a lollipop out of Oikawa’s grasp. He was beginning to realise that picking battles doesn’t necessarily mean you win them.

“It’s obvious Iwa-chan~” he teased. “Ouch! So mean Iwa-chan!” He wailed, rubbing the place where Iwaizumi had thwacked him. “It’s true though.”

“Maybe,” Iwaizumi conceded, “But back to the original point, no you can’t eat them. They’re a leaving gift for one of our professors.”

Oikawa grabbed the strawberry lollipop and removed the wrapping in one fluid movement. He popped it in his mouth and spoke around it, “One won’t hurt, right Iwa-chan?”  
Iwaizumi sighed, moving to adjust his seat so it was as far back as it would go and removed his seatbelt in order to sit cross legged facing Oikawa, “You’re insufferable, this is why I never talk to you in class.”

Oikawa’s mouth fell open with an audible noise and the lollipop dropped out of his mouth. Iwaizumi caught it before the stickiness could make a mess out of his upholstery,

“Really, Oikawa, you’re not five.” With a lack of a better place to put the lollipop, he placed it in his mouth.

Oikawa spluttered, “You… avoided me?!”

“Well, yeah,” Iwaizumi admitted, “no offense or anything but you’re kind of distracting and I need to focus.”

That seemed to blow Oikawa back into over confident mode, “I know I’m distracting, I’m simply too hot for the likes of mortal men!” Of course that’s where his mind would go. Was he… batting his eyelashes? Yes. Yes he was.

“You have no shame, Trashykawa,” he retorted, giving Oikawa a once over. Sure he was good looking, but he wouldn’t go that far.

The statement was returned with a grin, “You love me really!” Then he snatched the lollipop back, “But don’t steal my things.”

Iwaizumi didn’t even dignify that with a response. He rested his head on the cool window and closed his eyes, not really sleepy, but it meant he didn’t have to make conversation. The silence created was comfortable but temporary. It was soon filled with the white noise of Oikawa searching through layers of fabric. Iwaizumi watched him from under his eyelashes.

Brunet hair flicked across his face, framing his features. His eyes were expressive when he spoke, but now they wandered, searching, his slender fingers rummaging through his coat. The light filtered through the snow in strange ways, and soft, speckled light cascaded over his face. Iwaizumi could appreciate why all the girls seemed head over heels, especially paired with his oozing confidence. The guy had just accepted a lift from someone he barely knew, made himself at home, stole sweets and teased his host. You had to give him brownie points just for the sheer cheek of it.

But on the other hand he was pretty fickle. They sat on opposite ends of the classroom in most of their classes, but should he ever catch Iwaizumi’s attention – which he often did, considering that Oikawa was a person who demanded attention – he always seemed to be flirting with his fangirls, or fanboys on some occasions. At first this had led Iwaizumi to believe Oikawa was bi, but on closer inspection each interaction was revealed to be as vapid as the last. It was just the way Oikawa acted. A people pleaser in some respects, which was fine, but not conducive to Iwaizumi’s studies, which were already looking rather grim.

Oikawa found what he was looking for: a smartphone. “Wanna listen to music?” He offered, already flicking through and playing a song before Iwaizumi could give a proper response. Cheerleader blared through the speakers. Really what was he expecting? He sighed loudly.

“Oh?” Oikawa inquired, “Is there a problem with my impeccable music taste?”

Iwaizumi shrugged, “It’s fine but a bit… typical.”

“Nothing wrong with mainstream music Iwa-chan~”

“That’s not what I meant. I meant that it’s typical of you.”

Oikawa blinked in surprise then leaned forwards excitedly, “So Iwa-chan notices me more than he lets on!”

Iwaizumi grimaced, “Really, stop with the Iwa-chan thing. It’s not my name and it’s annoying.”

“You’ll learn to love it!”

“I doubt it.”

Approximately twenty-six cheesy pop songs, one-thousand-six-hundred-and-twenty-one Iwa-chan’s and the entire bag of sweets later he had not so much learned to love it but grown to expect and therefore tolerate the term of endearment.

The traffic was still at a stand-still, and the music had been turned down and then off to make room for conversation. They joked and laughed, yet slowly, as if melancholy was trickling through the cracks in the doors, the atmosphere quieted.

Iwaizumi stared at Oikawa as he talked in a low, serious voice, afraid to break the spell that had been cast over them. Oikawa wasn’t being fake now – the façade had fallen away, leaving only a story, “I always trained a lot during high school, to go to nationals, y’know?”

Even that was crazy to Iwaizumi, the thought of being so good at something you could compete at a national level.

“But there was another school who always won because of their overpowering ace. And then another school with a prodigy setter. I knew him actually, from middle school. And I knew…” he broke off, running a hand through the silk strands of his hair, “I knew that I couldn’t win,” he managed, voice small. Iwaizumi wanted to reach out, touch a hand to his shoulder. “So I trained more and more often. I got there early in the mornings, and I left late at night. I had to be better.” His fist tightened, veins fidgeting under his skin. “Then I screwed up my knee.” His face looked bitter for a moment, intense with a feeling that Iwaizumi found foreign on his face.

He did reach out then, clasping his hand gently around the other boy’s wrist. Immediately his clenched fist loosened, revealing crescent moons etched along his palms. “Could you still play?”

“Yes. But I had to take it easy, and I didn’t want to. I wanted to win, but I just wasn’t good enough. I should’ve… I should’ve…” he trailed off, helplessly, then smiled, “But it was worth it, because my knee’s alright now, you reap what you so after all, Iwa-chan~”

Iwaizumi recoiled at the change, “Um, okay…” he said, unsure for a moment. He thought for something else to ask about. “Why did you decide to study medicine in the end?”  
Oikawa shrugged, “I thought about continuing with volleyball and I toyed with a few other things as well, but I settled on medicine.”

This guy was a whole other level Iwaizumi thought. Who ‘settles’ for medicine? “It suits you,” he said, “you’ll have a heck of a bedside manner.”

Oikawa laughed, his face a little red and Iwaizumi’s breath caught in his throat.

***

Oikawa pitched into a fit of giggles, because really the whole situation was just too much. Here he sat in the passenger seat of his crush’s car in dead traffic while he spilled his life story (really why had he done that) and blushed like a teenage girl.

At least the day was definitely looking up from this morning when he swore his fate was to freeze to death under a layer of snow. He’d make a pretty corpse, but he intended to live a many more years yet, thank you very much. It was just as he was thinking these morbid thoughts when his real-life-honest-to-god-prince, Iwaizumi Hajime, had called him over. And he’d be damned if his face hadn’t flushed as hot as pop tart filling when he heard that voice. The cold became a blessing then, masking the true cause of his blush.  
It turned out Iwaizumi didn’t have a very high opinion of him, much to his displeasure. What’s the point in winning around the entire student body except for your crush? Ah well, at least it would be a challenge.

He snapped himself from his thoughts so he could focus on the next dream-worthy thing to come out of Iwa-chan’s pretty lips. “You must have a bigger reason though,” he probed, leaning forwards, arms resting on his crossed legs. He looked genuinely interested.

Hesitation: truth or half-truth? His subconscious had already decided. “When I hurt my knee it was during a practice match. They swapped me out for our reserve setter and some other players who weren’t taking part helped me. But it just… carried on. I don’t know what I expected, in all honesty, but I decided then that I didn’t want to be someone who just… carries on. I wanted to do something.”

Iwa-chan was quiet for a moment. “That,” he began, “is the most heartfelt thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

“I say many heartfelt things,” Oikawa proclaimed.

“If you say so.”

“I do!”

Iwaizumi just snorted in disbelief.

“You wound me Iwa-chan, truly~”

***  
Iwaizumi sort of felt cheated. This person sat opposite him was not in fact a total ditz. If he were asked to talk percent he’d probably go sixty percent ditz, maybe fifty-five on a good day. But from the way he spoke about school, sport, life; he got the impression that the pinnacle of all idiocy was actually… intelligent. In the way he thought and articulated himself and, Iwaizumi was beginning to suspect, in grades. When he asked he found out they were excellent, actually significantly better than his own. Still there was one thing he didn’t understand.

“How? All you do is chat up our classmates.”

“I do not,” he denied.

Iwaizumi shot him a look, causing him to concede a little.

“Well, I multitask.”

With some wistfulness Iwaizumi let a huff of air escape his lips, “I wish I could get away with that.”

“Problems in academic paradise?”

“I was never in academic paradise, I barely made purgatory.” He ran his fingers through the spikes in his hair. He was just about keeping his head above the water, but the first section of the course was about as interesting as matching socks, (Iwaizumi’s least favourite household chore), and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep up his efforts.

“That has a simple solution,” Oikawa told him.

“Well don’t leave me in suspense,” he replied, not holding out hope for a sensible answer.

“I’ll tutor you.”

Iwaizumi… actually considered it. A few hours ago he would have declined in an instant, but now he found himself seriously considering the royal idiot as his tutor. What time in small spaces does to your view of a person. “That would actually be really helpful,” he mumbled.

Then he noticed the traffic had begun to move. “All right!” Iwaizumi cheered, “Let’s go!”

Oikawa’s lips twitched into a half smile as Iwaizumi adjusted his position and smoothed the handbrake off.

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever fanfiction! Predictably for Iwaoi because they're adorable~ I hope you like it :)


End file.
